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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29649066">Lost. (It’s a Checkmate)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mystif_Fox/pseuds/Mystif_Fox'>Mystif_Fox</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Feels, Dead Toby Smith | Tubbo, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Lonely TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Post-Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Sad, Sad TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Season Finale, TommyInnit Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), i still dont know how to tag smh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 21:15:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>821</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29649066</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mystif_Fox/pseuds/Mystif_Fox</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>[A broken heart is all that's left.<br/>I'm still fixing all the cracks.<br/>Lost a couple of pieces when..<br/>I carried it, carried it, carried it home.]</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Tommy realized his discs were never his true symphony. It never was.</p><p>Or; What if Tubbo died in the disc war finale? </p><p>(fic based off of @/korokapot’s walmart protege!tommy on Instagram)<br/>(song : arcade by duncan laurence)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clay | Dream &amp; Toby Smith | Tubbo &amp; TommyInnit, Toby Smith | Tubbo &amp; TommyInnit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>57</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Lost. (It’s a Checkmate)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was justa small drabble into Tommy’s internal emotions in the walmart protege au</p><p>because in the au, sam was right;<br/><i>you don’t get over your friend’s death that easily.</i></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <i>
      <tt>A broken heart is all that's left.<br/>
I'm still fixing all the cracks.<br/>
Lost a couple of pieces when..<br/>
I carried it, carried it, carried it home.</tt>
    </i>
  </p>
</div>Tommy realized his discs were never his true symphony. It never was.<p>But the reason he was so attached to said items, was because it represents not only the hard work and the trials he's gone through to get to this point, no. It was also because it held <i>memories.</i> Memories of friendship, of acceptance; the warmth from a gentle, loving embrace.</p><p>And that embrace came from a young brunet, older than him by a few months, yet shorter than him by a few inches, eyes shining with a passion and sparks in a familiarity that he’d call home. From someone whom he called his ‘Right Hand Man’, only to be the one person he was willing to follow behind, through thick and thin, above all else. </p><p>(Even if screamed at him once upon a time with such poison in his tongue.<br/>
Even then, as he immediately regretted his words, succumbing to his side yet again. </p><p>Even if it meant betraying the hybrid that housed him and cared for him as if they're brothers.)</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <i>
      <tt>I'm afraid of all I am.<br/>
My mind feels like a foreign land.</tt>
    </i>
  </p>
</div>There was one thing he wished he had done, though. One thing he had realized.<p>He wished he had admitted it sooner.</p><p>And now? He's about to lose the one true light in his life.</p><p>"<i>Tubbo-</i>" He could hear his voice crack, but he could care less. He was desperate. He was young!<br/>
God, he was only 16. His best friend <i>just</i> turned 17.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <i>
      <tt>Silence ringing inside my head..<br/>
Please, carry me, carry me-<br/>
Carry me Home.</tt>
    </i>
  </p>
</div>"Tubbo <i>please- please don't go.</i>"<p>Even if his vision blurred, tears streaming down his face, even if he tried spitting out deals or offerings to stop it, even if he begs and begs and <i>begs,</i> he knew it was useless.<br/>
Tommyinnit was going to lose Tubbo to the hands of a monster. He was going to lose his best friend.</p><p>And even so, Tubbo still smiled. It was a sad smile, but he saw the way he held himself. He knew Tubbo had made up his mind. He saw the brunet look at him, a newly found resolve in his eyes. It was as if he was telling him, <i>"it's okay, Tommy. You'll make it out. Don't worry about me."</i></p><p>It wasn't.<br/>
But Tommy didn't have it in him to speak. He didn't have any chance to, anyway.</p><p>Not when Tubbo turned around, nodding his head to Dream. Not when Dream came up to Tubbo, brandishing his weapon and striking him down.</p><p>Not when Tubbo, <i>his Tubbo</i>, fell to the floor like a ragdoll, red blossoming onto his signature green shirt and red dripping from Dream's weapon.</p><p>His skin was so cold when he held it. It was so warm moments ago.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <i>
      <tt>I've spent all of the love I saved.<br/>
We were always a losing game,</tt>
    </i>
  </p>
</div><s>
  <br/>
  <b>Dream</b>
  <br/>
</s> A monster dragged him away, promising <s>
  <br/>
  <b>sweet nothings</b>
  <br/>
</s> for a way to revert this. He could only blindly hope. What more could he do anyway, if he just let his Tubbo go?<p>He could hear voices. People. Their tones all sound muffled, as if he was underwater.<br/>
Similar to the days in exile.</p><p>(<i>He could hear his friends, chatting, yelling, laughing away, at the centre of their nation. He stood nearby, watching. How was he here?</i></p><p>
  <i>Someone calls for him. Tubbo. He smiled, running to his best friend. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>But the closer he was, the more muffled they were. Blue seeps into his vision, and he could see Tubbo's face turn from joy, to rage, as he glares daggers right at him.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>"Tubb-"</i>
</p><p>He opens his eyes, almost choking from the sudden intake of water in his lungs. He scrambles upwards, trying his best to swim up to breath, adrenaline overpowering his already sore limbs.)</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <i>
      <tt>Small-town boy in a big Arcade.<br/>
I got addicted to a losing game..</tt>
    </i>
  </p>
</div>His feet dragged him, guiding him to locations that <s>
  <br/>
  <b>Dream</b>
  <br/>
</s> The monster asked him to go to.<p>His hands moved, holding onto each item he owns, while letting them all go all the same into a hole.</p><p>His eyes looked, watching as those items burn away, staring at that porcelain mask of a smile.</p><p>(If he looked hard enough, he could see a blur of yellow and brown fly around in a patch of flowers.)</p><p>His lungs breathe, taking in the sweet oxygen that allowed him to even work.</p><p>His mouth spoke.<br/>
But today, he doesn't have many words to say.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <i>
      <tt>O-o-ooh.. o-o-o-oh,<br/>
All I know, all I know..</tt>
    </i>
  </p>
</div><i>'Tubbo, I'm sorry.'</i><p>
  <i>'I'll do anything he says to bring you back, okay? It's not your time to die yet.'</i>
</p><p>
  <i>'Just- hang on tight. You'll be back home.'</i>
</p><p>
  <i>'I promise.'</i>
</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <i>
      <tt>Loving you is a losing game.</tt>
    </i>
  </p>
</div><div class="center">
  <p>.<br/>
.<br/>
..tommy?</p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>btw don’t forget to read the walmart protege comics on korokapot’s insta! they’re p cool :]</p></blockquote></div></div>
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